


Nothing Less Than Everything

by ShadowsLament



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 04:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowsLament/pseuds/ShadowsLament
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A companionable, familiar touch leads Gannicus to want nothing less than everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Less Than Everything

**Author's Note:**

> A quick exercise that may lead to more (and longer) Gannicus/Spartacus fics, because there are so few of them, and I ship them hard.
> 
> [Title taken from Satellite's "Come and Get Me," which, along with Angus and Julia Stone's "Draw Your Swords," I listened to on repeat while writing.]

“The path is set.” His hand a tempered weight on Gannicus’ shoulder, Spartacus added, “I would have you at my side.”

Gannicus shielded his gaze with drawn lashes as chapped and callused skin skimmed his biceps, steady fingers set to shortly part ways with honed muscle, and still he returned in mind to another man and a touch neither welcomed nor trusted. But it was not Varis who stood in front of him then. When he took breath, the air was not sweet with perfume or spiced with partaken wine, but laced with the acrid scent of sweat and the tang of dried blood like metal on the tongue. 

“Gannicus?” Spartacus stayed his hand where elbow bent to forearm. “I spoke desire, not command. If you would stay and assist Agron--”

“You touch freely,” Gannicus murmured, his brow furrowing when the pressure on his arm eased, the hand that had applied it withdrawing to Spartacus’ side. “There was once another who--But that is past.” Lifting his eyes from Spartacus’ clenched fist, Gannicus acknowledged the man’s anger on his behalf with a short nod. “I would know the shadow of it scraped from memory.”

A close flame cast swaying light over Spartacus’ face, baring the emotion written there as an indecipherable language. Spartacus matched words with a tentative smile. “I mistake your meaning.”

“No.” Gannicus stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “You do not.”

Canting his head, Spartacus’ narrow stare dropped from Gannicus’ eyes to his mouth and rose again. “You have looked on me before,” he said, “and I have not lost sense. I require clarity, Gannicus. Before action is concluded and regret stands as wall between us. You ask--”

“I ask knowledge of your hand.” Gannicus reached for it when Spartacus did not stir from stillness, and with the tip of his middle finger mapped a circular trail over the rough terrain of Spartacus’ palm. Encountering no resistance, Gannicus raised the hand he claimed and pressed it, warm and open, against his stomach. “On my body.” Tremors quaked across his abdomen, and he wondered if Spartacus realized how his restraint was then tested, but the fleeting thought fled as Spartacus took back a measure of control, grazing Gannicus’ chest with a light but certain touch. “To know the taste of your mouth,” Gannicus said, his voice thick and pitched low. “And have you familiar with mine.”

“We do this--” Heavy lids briefly drifted shut. “We do this,” Spartacus began again, focusing on Gannicus with intent, “and there is no retreat.”

“Past actions suggest I know meaning of fucking word?” Gannicus’ grin faded. “If we trade warning, realize I would not have you once, nor will I take less than all. Respond in kind,” he said, and gripped Spartacus’ nape, “or find opinion of the man I think you--”

Sinking the length of his fingers into the thick of Gannicus’ hair, Spartacus leaned in. “Turn mouth to better fucking purpose.”

Gannicus allowed himself another moment of unadulterated anticipation before acting on Spartacus’ order, surging up and slanting a feral smile over Spartacus’ lips. Against the sealed seam, Gannicus breathed, “Open for me.” Between his teeth, the bottom curve was slick and pliable, and he released it only to insist, “I would claim ignorance no longer.”

The hand in his hair tightened; he thought Spartacus’ fingers bound by the long strands, and so was proven by a sharp tug, changing the angle of their kiss as Spartacus parted his mouth and met Gannicus’ entry with equal demand. “This night,” Gannicus managed, laving the words against Spartacus’ tongue, “position is yours to choose. Morning light is another matter.” His hold loosened from Spartacus’ neck and his hand fell, drifting down the long column of spine. “It shall find you beneath me.”

Spartacus rode his thumb across Gannicus’ jaw. “As you command.”


End file.
